


Sleepless

by 1848pianist



Series: Some Heroes Do Wear Capes: Assorted Drabbles in the Marvel Fandom [3]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Asexual Erik, F/F, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Protective Erik, Rule 63, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:59:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3169079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1848pianist/pseuds/1848pianist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something is wrong when Charlotte shows up at Erika's apartment. Erika fixes things; Charlotte is stronger than she looks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless

**Author's Note:**

> The self harm tag is not quite accurate; it's more self-harm-under-the-influence-of-a-telepathic breakdown. Still, the warning is there just in case. 
> 
> This idea came out of nowhere while I was writing a longer Charlotte/Erika Modern AU 'verse. It didn't quite fit in the timeline, so it stands alone.

Erika sighs, shutting her laptop and stretching her arms over her head. It’s a quiet Saturday evening with – finally – nothing pressing to do. Glancing at the clock, she sees it’s nearly dinnertime, and wonders reflexively if Charlotte is busy. It’s been too long since they’ve seen each other, in Erika’s mind, with both of them preoccupied at the end of the semester.

 _Want to meet for dinner tonight?_ she texts, imagining Charlotte hunched over textbooks or her laptop, studying furiously for her never-ending course load.

She surprised, then, when the reply comes almost instantly.

 _could I come over to your place actually,_ the message reads. Erika frowns. It’s a little thing, but Charlotte’s texts are normally grammatically perfect. She’s probably just in the middle of something, Erika assumes, too busy to bother with punctuation.

_Sure. Is everything alright?_

There’s no reply, but maybe Charlotte just turned her phone off on the walk over.

Still, Erika is relieved when she hears the knock on the door.

“Hi,” she says brightly as she opens the door, expecting to see Charlotte smiling back at her on the other side. Instead, Charlotte stands shivering in the hallway looking cold and miserable, her hair hanging around her pale face and one hand cradled against her chest as though injured. The shadows under her eyes are deep, as though she hasn’t slept for days.

“Charlotte?” Erika asks, comparing this version of her with a memory of a week before, when Charlotte had been sitting in Erika’s kitchen, laughing and happy.

“Can I come in?” Charlotte asks. Her gaze is distant and doesn’t quite focus on Erika.

“Of course,” Erika says, guiding her gently into the kitchen, which in the middle of January is the warmest place in the apartment. Charlotte barely seems to recognize her surroundings and doesn’t even acknowledge the mug of tea Erika places beside her.

“Let me see your hand,” Erika says, getting the first aid kit from the cabinet. Did Charlotte slip on the ice on her way over?

“No,” Charlotte says with unexpected resistance, pulling away from Erika’s touch.

“I won’t hurt you,” Erika reassures, beginning to get truly worried now. “I just need to look.”

Charlotte shakes her head.

“Please, Charlotte. What’s going on?”

Charlotte just shakes her head again, biting her lip, but at least she doesn’t fight Erika when she carefully takes a hold of her wrist, drawing it away from her chest.

With a flick of her fingers she turns on the brighter lights above the sink, and with a gasp sees that Charlotte’s arm and sleeve are soaked in blood – her own.

“What happened, Charlotte?” Erika asks, afraid that she already knows. “Did _you_ do this?”

Again, Charlotte shakes her head, slowly, and then says, “I—no, it wasn’t—” She stops, closing her eyes and sucking in a deep breath, trying to steady herself. It’s warm in the kitchen, but she’s still shaking, trembling under Erika’s touch.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright? It’s not very deep; you’ll be okay.”

Charlotte says nothing and watches silently while Erika cleans and bandages her wrist, wincing only when Erika cleans the cut itself.

“Sorry,” Erika whispers, glancing up at Charlotte with a look she hopes is reassuring.

“I’ll get you something of mine to wear,” Erika says when Charlotte is no longer in immediate danger of bleeding to death. “It’ll be a bit long, of course, but better than bloodstains.”

Charlotte nods, staring down blankly at her sleeve.

“Stay here, okay?” Erika tells her and goes off to find something suitable.

When she returns, Charlotte is sipping the tea Erika left for her, looking marginally more alive.

“Here, put this on,” Erika says, handing her something blue and warm that Charlotte probably picked out for her in the first place. While Charlotte dresses, Erika looks through the limited selection of food in her fridge.

“You should eat something,” she says, turning to see Charlotte standing behind her in a sweater that’s much too long. Another time, when Charlotte didn’t look so miserable, Erika would have grinned and called her _adorable_ before kissing her or running her hands through Charlotte’s hair. Instead, Erika gives her a soft smile and steps closer, offering her support if Charlotte needs it.

Charlotte closes the rest of the gap between them, wrapping her arms around Erika’s waist and leaning her head against Erika’s chest. In response Erika rests her chin on the top of Charlotte’s head, her hands moving slow circles on her back.

“Erika, I think I’m losing my mind,” Charlotte says with her eyes tightly closed, clinging to the back of Erika’s shirt.

“Why is that, _liebling_?” Erika asks gently, methodically working out a tangle in Charlotte’s hair.

“I—I can’t control my powers,” Charlotte admits. “It’s getting worse. It’s just too much, all the time, and I can’t turn it off…”

“Shh,” Erika says, pressing her hand against Charlotte’s back. “When did it start?”

“Three—three days ago, I think? I should have told you, but I thought it would go away.” Charlotte shivers. “Erika, I can’t even sleep.”

“What do you need me to do? I’ll help you, tell me.”

“I don’t know,” Charlotte says, pressing her face into Erika’s shoulder. “This – physical contact, I mean – is the only thing that’s helped at all—it’s grounding. It’s easier to be in only one person’s mind. I just—I don’t know what’s causing this and I don’t know what to _do_.”

“You’ll be alright, Charlotte, I promise. You can stay here as long as you want. You know that, right?” Erika tilts Charlotte’s head back, cupping her cheek, so she can look her in the eye. “Can you tell me how you hurt your wrist?”

Charlotte tenses but says, “I was trying to sleep and I tried to block out all of the—everyone’s thoughts—but one of them was too strong and—” her fingers dig into Erika’s back as she gasps and continues, biting out every word, “it was like I wasn’t _me_ anymore, like I _was_ the other person, and when I came back to myself there was—there was blood everywhere and I don’t know who or where the other person is…”

“Charlotte, breathe,” Erika reminds her gently.

“I’m trying,” Charlotte says, sucking in air and clutching at Erika’s arm as she sways a little on her feet. “I think I should sit down. I can hear…” Her gaze goes unfocused again, staring somewhere over Erika’s shoulder.

“Come on,” Erika says, steering her back to her seat. She presses her forehead against Charlotte’s, not knowing if that will make any difference but hoping that it will bring Charlotte back to her. Charlotte’s fingers latch onto Erika’s wrist as she fights to block out the invading thoughts.

“Charlotte?”

“I’m here.” Her voice is quiet but strong enough for Erika, who closes her eyes in temporary relief.

“You said this started three days ago. Do you have any idea why?” she asks.

Charlotte shakes her head. “I was just working on a paper…trying to meet a deadline.”

“And you started hearing other people’s thoughts? More than usual?”

“It happens sometimes when I’m tired. I thought I could ignore it.” Charlotte’s voice is getting softer, her eyes shut tightly against what Erika assumes is a barrage of intruding voices.

“Stay with me, Charlotte,” she says, shifting her wrist from Charlotte’s grip to squeeze her hand. Then, as a thought begins to occur to her, she asks, “You stayed up late finishing this paper, right? When was the last time you had a full night’s sleep?”

Charlotte’s eyes blink open, not entirely focused but enough that she’s still aware of Erika. “Ah…what day is it again?”

“ _Charlotte_.”

“I know, I know.” She pauses to breathe, exhausted by the effort. “I was working, and I told you, Erika, _I can’t sleep_.”

“And while you were staying up to write this paper, you didn’t think that it might make it hard to control your telepathy? You didn’t think you should have stopped when you started hearing voices?”

“I didn’t know it would get this bad,” Charlotte says through gritted teeth. “And in case you couldn’t tell, I haven’t exactly been thinking clearly!”

Worried as she is about Charlotte’s mental state, Erika is relieved to hear her snapping back.

“So you went without sleep to finish a paper, which made it harder to control your powers, which made it harder to sleep?” she asks.

“Something like that,” Charlotte murmurs, beginning to fade again.

“Have you been able to sleep at all?” Erika presses, unable to entirely mask the concern in her voice. “Or have you been without sleep for, what? Five days?”

“Nearly that,” Charlotte says. “I’ve been able to sleep here and there…never for very long. Sometimes I can…catch the thoughts of someone who’s already asleep…”

“Charlotte,” Erika says, just as Charlotte collapses forward, hands clutching at the sides of her head.

“Oh, god, make it stop…” she sobs, tears falling into Erika’s lap.

For a moment, Erika panics, knowing that the only way to help Charlotte is to get her to sleep but having no idea how to accomplish that goal. Then she realizes that her own racing thoughts can’t be helping Charlotte, and shoves them aside to work on a solution.

She shakes Charlotte by the shoulders, perhaps a little too roughly, but it works if only momentarily. Charlotte’s eyes are more crazed than clear, but at least she seems lucid.

“Just a little bit longer, Charlotte. I need you here,” Erika says. “We need to get you to sleep. I have sleeping pills, or—”

Charlotte shakes her head immediately. “They won’t work, I tried.” She seems on the verge of panic herself.

“Alright,” Erika says soothingly. “I have another idea. You said you could sleep when you listened to the thoughts of someone who was asleep, so we’ll try the same thing. You in my mind. It might even work better, since it will be intentional.”

“No,” Charlotte says, her eyes wide with horror. “No, _no_ , Erika. It’s too dangerous to be in your mind that long when I can’t control my powers. I could hurt you, I could—”

“We don’t have a choice,” Erika says. “We’re in the middle of New York; there’s nowhere to go where there won’t be people and let you sleep it off. This is the only way, and it will work, trust me.”

“I _do_ trust you,” Charlotte says, wiping tears from her eyes. “It’s my powers I don’t trust.”

“I trust you,” Erika says softly. Reaching up, she brushes away the wetness from the hollow under Charlotte’s eye. “Let me do this for you.”

“Alright,” Charlotte concedes after a long moment. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.” Standing, she takes Charlotte’s hand, careful of her injured wrist, and leads her out of the kitchen, squeezing her fingers if her eyes lose focus.

While Erika changes into sweatpants and a loose t-shirt and pulls her hair down from her customary braid, Charlotte perches on the edge of the bed, wrapping her arms around herself as though cold and staring at nothing. She glances up, looking resigned, when Erika comes to stand in front of her.

“Ready for this?” Erika asks.

“I hope so,” Charlotte says and makes room for Erika next to her as she lies down. Erika curls around her, tucking Charlotte’s head under her chin. Charlotte relaxes by a fraction and shifts closer. She wraps an arm around Erika’s slender waist, fingers brushing the ridges of her spine. Erika hums and trails her hand through Charlotte’s hair, not afraid in the slightest by the prospect of having Charlotte inside her mind.

Once they’ve settled, Charlotte reaches up to touch Erika’s temple, the shaking in her hands revealing her fear.

“Tell me if this is too much,” she whispers, and closes her eyes to concentrate as she opens her mind fully to Erika, and Erika alone.

Charlotte’s consciousness is scattered and a bit shaky in Erika’s mind, but it feels no more dangerous and no less _Charlotte_ than ever. Erika’s fingers curl in Charlotte’s hair as she adjusts to the initial shock of their minds joining.

“Erika?”

“I’m fine,” Erika reassures, petting Charlotte’s hair. “Try and sleep.”

“I will,” Charlotte says, clearly relieved that she hasn’t hurt Erika as she curls up beside her again.

“Goodnight, _liebling_ ,” Erika says as she sinks into sleep, pulling Charlotte with her.

*

When Erika opens her eyes again, the sun is shining full-force through the curtains, indicating mid-afternoon. She’s surprised to have slept this long, but glad she did, since Charlotte is still lying beside her, slack-jawed and dreaming. Erika doesn’t rush to get up as she might normally do, preferring instead to lazily comb through Charlotte’s hair until she wakes up.

“Morning,” she says when clear blue eyes blink open at her. “Or rather, afternoon. How do you feel?”

Charlotte gives her a small smile, stretching her arms above her head and settling them around Erika’s neck.

“Better. A lot better.”

“Good,” Erika says, smiling against Charlotte’s mouth as she kisses her.


End file.
